I started this blog when my husband and I were expecting our first child to document my pregnancy and warn people of all the things nobody tells you about. Then it followed our family's journey through secondary infertility. It turns out I forgot as much as I learned. One might think that motherhood has softened me...
One would be wrong.

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Monday, June 13, 2011

I am not a fan of....

I live in a big city. In exchange for a lot of the bank's money, we have a small house on the outskirts of downtown. There is one parking space and getting a getting a permit to park a second car, on the street, would require one or both of us performing sexual favours for a host of city officials. For the time being we've decided to be monogamous so we make do with one car. The Husband and I use it to ferry The Parasite back and forth to daycare (he drops off, I pick up) and we park at home and take public transit to and from work.

I am not a fan of the people on public transit. There are people everywhere who feel that cheap cologne is an acceptable substitute for bathing (it's not) or who crack their gum or cough without covering their mouths, but I'm talking about violations of Decent Human Being Code that are specific to mass transit. These might be perfectly nice people in other circumstances, but get them on the train and they turn into complete assholes. There's innumerable things that piss me off about the subway, but these are the biggest on my list of pet peeves.

Top 5 public transit assholes:

The seat hogger, who feels their shopping haul is more entitled to a seat than the paying customers standing around them. These crafty little buggers are skilled at avoiding eye contact, especially when the elderly, the disabled or the very obviously pregnant are in their field of peripheral vision.

The backpacker, who is unaware of how much their person is extended by their cargo and always manage to whack a short person (that's me!) in the face.

The pole dancers, who inexplicably want to make sure they maximize contact with subway surfaces by leaning on the poles others would like to hold on to. What the fuck? Do they have any idea how many different bodily fluids may be on that pole? Why on earth would you want any more of your body than absolutely necessary to touch that thing? (Yes I'm less germaphobic than I used to be, but you gotta' draw the line somewhere.)

The "I'm just paying my fare" people, who ram past you in the turnstiles as you gather your change from buying tokens. Simple physics: Two pieces of solid matter cannot occupy the same space at the same time. I nailed one of them with a sharp elbow when they tried to do it while I was pregnant and I feel no guilt.

The door stoppers, who just shared a platform with a crowd yet stop in the doorway, seemingly oblivious to the other people boarding the train behind them. My personal favourites are the ones who cluck and sigh as you brush against them making your way onto the train. Here's a tip: I wouldn't have to do that if you'd GET OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!

If you see a little of yourself in any of these people, please know that I am silently plotting your death. One of these days I'm going to master telekinesis and you're totally screwed. On that happy note, I'm off to start my morning commute. Hope you're not in my way!